Hyde and Seek
by antivalentine
Summary: What if Ana refused to interview Christian Grey on Kate's behalf? No angst about contracts and NDAs, no expensive gifts, and no control-freak boyfriend to come to the rescue when her new boss seems to be interested in more than a professional relationship...
1. Prologue

'For the hundredth time, Kate, no. I do not have time to drag all the way to Seattle to do your interview for you. I have a shift at Clayton's, and they've been so good about letting me take time to study that I'd feel terrible letting them down.'

Kate pouts. I can't decide whether the red nose and streaming eyes make this more or less effective than usual.

'What about letting me down? I've worked for months to get this interview, I can't just let this opportunity slip by...'

'You know as well as I do that there are dozens of wannabe journalists on campus who'd be more than happy to help.' I scrape my long brown hair back into a ponytail and pick up my bag, ready to set off for a last-minute burst of revision at the library.

'Exactly,' whines Kate, 'Why should they get the glory when I've done all the work to set it up? They probably wouldn't even stick to my questions. Please just do this one little thing for me, I'll love you forever...'

'No. Look, you can always insist on writing it up yourself and sharing the byline. You're the editor, you're the one who gets all the glory anyway, and it won't kill you to give one of your minions something extra to put on their resume. Not everyone gets to walk straight into a job on the Seattle Times, you know.'

Kate sniffles. 'Ouch.'

'I'm sorry, you know I love you, and any other time I'd do it in a heartbeat, but I have too much other stuff I need to do right now. I'll pick up some orange juice on my way back, is there anything else you need?'

'I need you to interview Christian Grey!' she wails, throwing the empty box of tissues at me. Her aim is terrible, and it bounces off the door as I retreat.

Obviously I feel bad about leaving my best friend in the lurch like this, but deep down she must know she's not being reasonable. Even if I wasn't in the middle of finals, I'd only mess it up. Asking me to go and schmooze some reclusive billionaire on her behalf is like me demanding that she write my paper on fate and foreshadowing in Thomas Hardy. In her current phlegm-addled state, she might not like the idea of delegating the job to somebody competent, but she'll thank me for it later.


	2. How To Repel A Suitor

'...And that was when security threw him out.'

I giggle and gulp down the remains of my fifth cocktail. 'What did he expect? He asked the owner of the company if he was GAY!' I can't stop laughing.

'Actually, that was one of my questions,' Kate says, twirling the glass around in her hand, her other arm draped casually over Levi's shoulder.

'What, seriously?' says Levi, while I chime in with 'No way, in what universe would that ever be appropriate?'

Kate looks offended. 'He's never been seen with any women, even though he's incredibly hot and incredibly rich. I thought it was a valid question.'

'He probably thought the guy was trying to make a move on him,' José snorts, prompting me to giggle even more.

The four of us are out celebrating the end of exams. José's dad and my stepdad Ray are best friends, so José is like a brother to me, and he and Levi are both photographers. Normally, I don't drink at all, and I've always preferred staying home with a book to partying, but this evening has been surprisingly fun.

'Yes, well, I did think I was going to be the one doing the interview. It would have been fine if it'd been a girl asking, _Ana_.' She waves a wobbly finger in my direction.

'Oh no, you don't get to pin this one on me,' I protest.

'Anyway, he obviously touched a nerve.'

I shrug. 'Maybe he's just too busy building up his multimilliondollar corporation to have time to date.'

'Or maybe he's just really deep in the closet. Who cares, I want to dance!' Kate drains her glass, slams it down on the table and heads to the dancefloor with Levi in tow. José edges closer and a wave of nausea washes over me.

'Excuse me a minute, I need some fresh air,' I mumble, and head for the nearest exit.

It's not until the cool air hits me that I realise how wasted I am. I can barely stand up straight. _This would be why you never drink, Anastasia,_ my superego scolds, pushing her black horn-rimmed glasses up her nose. I mentally tell her to shut up and prop myself up against a wall for support, taking deep breaths and trying to stop the world from doing somersaults around me.

'Ana? You OK?' It's José. Or, rather, two Josés, swaying and overlapping. I feel ill.

'I think I just had one too many margaritas. Go back in and get us some beers, I'll be fine.'

'You don't look fine,' he murmurs, slipping his arm around me, and pulling me towards him. As supports go, he's a lot warmer and more comforting than the wall, but then he angles my chin up towards him and there's an intense look in his dark eyes which makes me uncomfortable.

'You know I like you, Ana. Like, _really_ like you.' He's slurring his words, and panic rises in me. I don't want to be having this conversation, not here, not now. I may be drunk, but I'm not quite drunk enough to start randomly kissing people. Frantically, I try to think back through the evening's events to see if I've done anything to give him the wrong idea, but my mind is blank. Jose bends his head down and nuzzles the side of my neck.

'OK...' I say weakly. 'Let's go back inside.' I jerk my head away and try to squirm out of his grip, but he doesn't seem to notice, trailing kisses up my neck and along my jawline. Alarm bells start sounding in my head. José may be my friend, and he may not be anywhere near sober right now, but if he keeps this up I'm going to have to unleash some of the self-defence moves Ray taught me... if I still have the co-ordination, that is.

I flex my fingers experimentally as José leans in to plant a kiss on my lips, but my mouth has other ideas. The wave of nausea surges up again and this time it's overwhelming. It's too late, I can't stop it. I try to get away from José but I'm not quite quick enough, and we both watch in horror as I spew all over his pants.

'Dios mio, Ana!' José yells, jumping from foot to foot and ineffectually dabbing at the vomit with his shirt sleeves. It's on his shoes as well. Holy crap. I have never been so mortified in my life. I burst into tears, while my superego looks on smugly with her arms folded. _See? This is what happens when you try to be someone you're not._

'I'm sorry!' I wail. 'I'm so, so sorry. Let me help you clean it up...' I fumble in my bag, looking for tissues, but as ever I am unprepared. I wipe my eyes with the bottom of my t-shirt. 'I'll pay for the dry cleaning... I'm so sorry...'

'It's fine,' says José moodily, though clearly it isn't.

'Ana!' Thank God, it's Kate. I burst into tears afresh. 'I heard you were crying in the parking lot. What happened?'

'I think she had a bit too much to drink' says José. 'I need to go to the bathroom, get this cleaned up.' He stomps off, his shoes squidging as he goes.

'I threw up on him,' I sob.

Kate puts her arm gingerly around me. 'He'll forgive you, he's crazy about you.'

Right now, I don't think I want him to forgive me. At least not before I forgive him, and that may be a while.

'I'm going to be sick again.' I announce. This time I make it to the trashcan, and Kate rubs my back comfortingly.

'As soon as you think you can go ten minutes without puking, we're getting a cab home.'

'No! You were having fun...'

'Not really. Levi is all over me and I'm just like, meh, I'm so done with students. I can't wait till we're in Seattle and there's a whole new city full of guys to check out.'

Despite myself, I laugh. What would I do, without Kate to rescue me?


	3. How Not To Walk In Heels

My mom is too busy hanging out in Georgia with her latest husband to see her only child graduate, but I'm glad my dad Ray is coming. Sometimes I think he's the only man in the world I can trust. I can't help being relieved that José has another year to run before he graduates and I don't have to deal with him today. I have so few friends I can't really afford to lose one, and I'm grateful to him for all the work he does keeping my ancient Beetle Wanda running, but I just can't see him in a romantic way.

Meanwhile, my last few shifts at Clayton's were spent trying to fend off Paul's attempts to pester me into going on a date with him. Why do these guys have such trouble with the word 'no'? I used to say I was too focused on my studies to want to date, but that excuse is clearly no longer valid. Hopefully if I get one of the internships I've applied for I can say I'm concentrating on my career. Hmm, maybe there was a little bit of projection going on the other night when we were talking about the single status of Kate's reclusive billionaire?

My superego raises her eyebrow at me. _You could just come out as asexual_, she says. I don't really have enough of a sexuality to come out as anything, I remind her. _That_, says my superego, _is kind of the point_.

I ignore her and carry on getting dressed. My student wardrobe of jeans and t-shirts is woefully inadequate for any formal occasion so I have had to raid Kate's closet for a gray halterneck dress. It's backless, but I'll be wearing a gown on top of it so I should be able to get away with a normal bra. The matching gray suedette pumps that Kate has lent me are not vertiginously high, but they still add a good two inches to my stature. I should be presentable enough for the photos, at least.

The auditorium is full of fellow graduates, swarming like ants in our identikit gowns and caps. We have to sit in alphabetical order, and the girls on either side of me are clearly BFFs, making me feel even more isolated than usual. Kate is valedictorian, of course, so I don't see her until she comes on stage with the faculty members and the reclusive billionaire who just happens to be presenting the diplomas this year.

Holy cow! She wasn't exaggerating when she said he was incredibly hot. I don't think I have ever seen such a beautiful man. He looks like a Greek statue come to life; he could almost be a different species from the assorted professors sharing the stage with him. I don't know anything about tailoring, but even I can tell that his smart gray suit was made to measure and must have cost a bomb. The BFFs seem just as struck by him, whispering inanities across me like 'He's hot!' and 'Is he single?' As if it would make a difference either way. I think Kate's right. He's probably gay. He's far too good-looking and well-groomed to be straight.

After some introductory remarks Miss Katherine Kavanagh gets up to deliver her speech. She is so confident and relaxed, you'd think she did this sort of thing every day, and she gets a well-deserved standing ovation. Though, to be honest, if the faculty get a standing ovation just for walking in it would be very unfair if she didn't get one for making an actual speech. Next up is Mr Hotness himself, Christian Gray, who has some things to say about eco-sustainability or agriculture or something. He has a lovely voice, soft and measured. Mmm, I could listen to him for hours, but I am none the wiser about eco-sustainability or agriculture when he finishes because his beauty is so distracting. I am so grateful I didn't give into Kate's pleadings and try to do that interview. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to speak coherently, just blushed and stammered like some naive teenager meeting her favorite boyband member backstage.

Since I'm towards the end of the alphabet, it's a long time to wait before my row goes up to get their diplomas, but having some eye candy on stage helps to relieve the boredom somewhat. Finally, it's time. My stomach is tying itself in knots as I stand in line. I shouldn't have had that cup of tea with Ray before we left because I really need the bathroom, and even though I've only been standing up for a couple of minutes Kate's heels are killing me already. I seek out Ray's face again. He looks so proud. I take a deep breath, remember all the hard work I did to get to this moment, hold my head high and ascend the steps confidently...

Whomph! Suddenly my ankle gives way beneath me and I lurch forward, almost knocking over the girl in front of me on my unstoppable descent to the floor. My right knee hits the ground hard and my palms are grazed. Oh no, not here, not now, not in front of all these people. Blushing furiously, I scramble inelegantly to my feet. The girl behind me helps me up and I feel bad for all the nasty things I thought about her earlier. Why do I have to be such a klutz? How did I ever think I could balance on these things? I smooth down my gown hurriedly and half-run to catch up with the rest of the line, terrified of falling over again.

And now I have to shake hands with Mr Hotness when all I really want to do is get the hell off this stage and go home. He smiles at me.

'Quite the entrance' he says, proferring his hand. My handshake is hopelessly limp because my palm is stinging and I don't want to sully him with the dirt from the floor. My other hand fumbles with the diploma he is giving me and drops it to the ground. Wow, can my co-ordination actually get any worse? I am seriously tempted to raise my hand and ask for a do-over.

I crouch down to pick it up and he does the same. Our eyes meet as we both reach for the paper and I can see for the first time that his are a deep raincloud gray, the exact same shade as his expensive silk tie. _Oh my._ I bite my lip and mumble an apology as we straighten up. He insists on shaking my hand again before letting me escape my humiliation, and an unexpected shiver resonates along my spine at his touch. I hope I don't pass out. That would just top everything. I walk carefully off stage with my cheeks burning, clutching my diploma tightly and vowing that I will never again wear heels in public.

**[A/N: Kudos to Socalchick0885 for reminding me that Christian presents the diplomas at graduation. I did think about having him be so offended by the interview debacle that he cancelled, but this works too.]**


End file.
